


Sleepless

by Lyrixxx



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 14:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18390461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrixxx/pseuds/Lyrixxx
Summary: It's the middle of the night and Rogue can't sleep.  Maybe a late encounter with a special someone will help her catch some zzzs?





	Sleepless

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely takes place post-Last Stand with some AU thrown in for good measure. Rated explicit for Logan's mouth and graphic sexual content. I do not own any part of the X-Men in any franchise nor any names or characters mentioned within.

At 2am, Logan finally gives sleep up as a bad job and rolls out of bed, groaning as his bare feet hit the carpet. He sits motionless for a moment, scrubbing his face with his hands and running his fingers through his shaggy hair, leaving it even more mussed. The nightmares had given him a break for a few sweet months, but now they are back with a vengeance. Logan knew that was a possibility when he came back to the Academy. But it was a risk he was willing to take. He has never been able to stay away for long. Chocolate brown eyes framed by streaky brown-and-white hair and a sweet smile are never far from his thoughts. 

Logan staggers to his feet, swaying for a moment. He pulls on the faded jeans lying in a heap on the floor beside the bed and stumbles barechested down the network of hallways to the kitchen. A beer - make that a _lot_ of beer - sounds good right now. 

 

***

Rogue buried her face in her pillow and muffled a scream of frustration. Ever since Logan’s return to the school, her sleepless nights were plagued with dreams that shocked and disturbed her. Not nightmares - oh, no, she would welcome nightmares at this point. These dreams were erotic to the point of torture and centered around one grouchy, muscular, near-feral man in particular. 

Rogue gave a heavy sigh and climbed out of bed, moving carefully to avoid disturbing Kitty across the room. Not that it mattered much - Kitty slept like the dead. _Jealous_ , Rogue thought to herself. She pulled on the giant flannel shirt that she used as a robe and padded barefoot toward the kitchen. Maybe some warm milk would help her sleep. Or maybe a cold shower was more in order…!

Rogue turned on the kitchen light and shrieked in horror as a dark shape moved across the room. A deep, gruff voice rumbled, “It’s just me, kid.” Rogue’s heart skipped a beat. _Logan._

He sat (no, _crouched_ was the better word, Rogue thought, like a jungle cat ready to pounce,) on a stool at the center island, a longneck loosely grasped in one strong hand. Several other bottles sat on the countertop beside him. Wearing only faded jeans that molded to him like a second skin, the sight of his shirtless torso caused her mouth to go dry. Rogue swallowed hard and tried to sound normal.

“Cheese and crackers, Logan! You scared the bejeesus outta me!” Rogue exclaimed, clutching her chest. Remembering the skimpy cami and boy shorts she wore to sleep in, she tugged the open flannel tighter across herself and opened the refrigerator door.

“Hey, grab me another one, wouldja kid?” Logan asked from his perch at the island. Rogue nodded her assent and handed him his beer before pouring milk into a mug along with a small spoonful of sugar and sticking it in the microwave. Logan grimaced.

“I don’t understand how you can drink that shit,” he growled, pulling at his beer. Rogue forcibly turned her gaze away from the motion of his throat as he swallowed. “Likewise,” she said, laughing slightly. She had tried beer a few times - mostly at Bobby’s urging - but had never developed a taste for it. Logan shrugged and returned to his beer. When the microwave dinged, she took her mug and sat on the stool next to Logan’s. Even from the distance of a few feet, she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Logan always ran a few degrees hot, he had told her once. His scent washed over her, a mixture of fabric softener, beer, and the heady musk that was Logan himself. Rogue fought to keep her breathing steady and sipped from her mug, casting glances at Logan from the corner of her eye.

***

She smells like sleep, like sweat, like secret things in the night, mixed with daisies and sunshine and everything that is pure and good in this world. Logan clenches his fist around his beer bottle and fights to get himself under control. He extends his claws just a touch, just enough to barely break the skin, using the pain to focus on something other than how good Marie smells, how much he’s missed her, how he longs to wrap her in his arms and never let go, to pin her against the wall and…

( _stop it stop it you idiot she’s your best friend and she’s a baby_ )

Logan is unaware he is rumbling under his breath until Marie’s soft hand lands on his forearm. “Logan? You ok?” she asks softly. With every ounce of strength in his body, Logan retracts his claws and smiles crookedly at Marie. “I’m fine, kid. Just can’t sleep. You either, huh?”

Marie frowns and blushes, something that surprises Logan, but he doesn’t comment. Her hand is still on his arm, her fingers absently swirling through the thick hair, tracing the lines of muscle and sinew. In a flash Logan is hard as a rock and powerless to stop it. 

( _boogers vomit brussels sprouts Scott naked XAVIER NAKED_ )

Logan tries to think of anything he can to distract himself from his arousal. The Wolverine rears its brutal head and screams, bellows in his soul for flesh, for sex, for new blood and the rut. Logan craves her with every fiber of his being, and yet the crazed lust of the animal inside him is not all he feels. He also aches with a tenderness he’s never known, an urge to cherish and protect no matter the cost. He will kill for her, die for her, walk through fire for her - healing abilities notwithstanding. He cannot resist her touch and drops his free hand on top of hers, caressing the delicate skin. It is delicious torture to touch her in such a tender and innocent way - things that Logan has not been for many, many years, if ever. As controversial as the “cure” was, as gut-wrenching as it was to see it weaponized and witness the devastating effect it had on his kind, he is grateful to the scientists who developed it. Because he can touch her like this. His Marie.

***

Logan was acting weird, and Rogue wasn’t sure why. At first she thought he must be angry with her - but, she knew him too well. Yes, he was _always_ angry, but he had different types of angry, and this wasn’t angry-angry. It was happy-angry, or at least as happy as Logan ever got. But there was an undercurrent of something else, something that she could sense but not identify. Even touching his arm brought no clarity - ever since the “incident” on Liberty Island, Rogue could usually tell what Logan was feeling, especially if there was physical contact. But this new sensation eluded definition.

Despite her confusion, Rogue secretly reveled in the simple pleasure of skin-on-skin. All the fear, the uncertainty, the second-guessing about the cure - in the end, it was _totally_ worth it. Because of this. Because she could touch her friend 

( _her love_ )

on the arm and not have to worry about pulling away in time, about hurting him, about having to distance herself from him in any way. She knew that everyone thought she’d gotten the cure for Bobby, and she was ok with letting them all believe that. But Bobby was the last thing on her mind at the time.

She’d gotten the cure for Logan.

***

Logan’s mind races, trying to think of something, _anything_ , to distract himself from the sweet torture that is Marie’s skin. Finally his gaze lands on the gigantic flannel shirt that she’s swaddled herself in.

“Hey...ain’t that _my_ shirt?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and smirking. Marie blushes and pulls her hand away. Logan is relieved at the loss of contact, but also sorrows for the lack of it.

“Well, you’re the one who left it here when you went scampering off across the wilderness,” Marie retorts, taking another drink of her now-lukewarm milk. “I say finders-keepers.” 

Logan stares at her for a beat, then points one long, blunt finger at her face. “I do _not. Fucking. Scamper_ ,” he growls, keeping his features stern. Marie laughs and rolls her eyes. “Sure, Logan,” she sasses. “Whatever you say.”

Logan grins to himself. How he loves her laugh. He remembers leaving the shirt hanging in his closet, right before he headed to Alkali Lake the first time. He is tickled beyond measure that she took it and claimed it as her own. The thought of her wearing it - wearing _only_ it - as she sleeps tangled in a mass of bedcovers brings his arousal rushing back. Good lord, it’s like being a fucking teenager again - you’d think a hundred-something years on this planet would’ve taught him some control. But then, he’s never felt like this before. 

Logan can’t stop himself from gently brushing his fingertips over the fabric covering her arm. “Looks better on you, anyway,” he murmurs. Marie blushes to the roots of her hair and looks away, then shyly meets his gaze again. “Thanks,” she says softly. “I think so too.” At a loss for anything to say, Logan pulls his hand away and chugs two long swallows of beer. The silence stretches between them. Silence is not a stranger to their time together - they often just sit, not speaking, basking in the simple pleasure of each other’s company. But this silence is an uncomfortable one, charged with an inexplicable energy that crackles between them even as they strive to ignore it. 

_Would it really be so bad?_

( _she’s a kid_ )

_Not really, not anymore. She hasn’t been for quite some time and you know it._

( _she’s a baby_ )

_She’s a grown woman now, with a woman’s body. Or haven’t you noticed?_

( _I’m way too old for her._ )

_Technically, you’re way too old for_ anyone.

( _fuck off_ )

( _she’s my closest friend_ )

_Yes. Just think how much better it will be because of that._

( _what if I hurt her?_ )

_What if she heals you?_

Logan has no argument for that.

***

The milk was gone, her mug empty. Logan continued to scowl at his beer and stew in whatever was going on in his head. Rogue stared into the depths of the mug, searching for an answer like a Gypsy reading tea leaves. Her thoughts were a blur. Logan’s return to the Academy was not going exactly how she had imagined.

_And what exactly did you think would happen?_ a little voice inside sneered. _Did you think that Logan would sweep you into his arms and take you right there in the courtyard? Declare his undying devotion in front of the entire school? You know he thinks of you as just a kid._

The voice became kind. _A kid who is his best friend, yes. But still a kid._

Rogue sighed.

***

Marie sighs, and something about the sound tears at Logan’s heart. He doesn’t need telepathy to know she has feelings for him, has had for years. A blind man could see it. Hero worship and friendship mixed with a little good old-fashioned lust. But Marie doesn’t know _everything_ about him. He’s protected her from the worst of it. Even during their deepest conversations, he lets her do most of the talking. She knows he’s older than he looks, that he’s seen combat and betrayal and has endured more pain than any living creature should. But there is a corner of himself that he’s kept locked away. She cannot know him, not truly. If she did, how would she ever love him? Logan could not bear it if she ever turned away from him. Despite his running, his long absences with no explanation, his always keeping her at arm’s length, she is the sun that pulls him back into orbit. He could no more leave her behind than grow wings and fly. And yet to embrace her fully would be to tarnish and destroy the beautiful, pure thing that is Marie. Because giving her anything less than his all would be an insult to her, but to sully her with all of his broken parts would cause the end of something rare and wonderful. He cannot live without her. He would die if he diminished her.

***

Rogue finally got up from her seat and heated another mugful of sweetened milk, more for something to do than out of any real desire for it. She could feel Logan’s gaze on her as she moved about the kitchen. _What would he do if she kissed him?_ she wondered. _Just walked over and grabbed his face and laid one on him?_ Probably pat her head and tell her she was a nice kid but far too young, she thought to herself with a snort. And yet she remembered how he reacted when she was with Bobby, how his steely gaze would go from their joined hands to her face and back again before he clenched his jaw and looked away. So he wasn’t completely immune. Some deep instinct told Rogue that Logan would never be the one to make the first move. If anything was gonna move them out of the friend zone, then she was gonna have to do it. The thought both terrified and exhilarated her. She returned to the island, but did not sit. Instead she placed her mug on the countertop and crawled into Logan’s lap.

***

For one brief second, Logan’s mind seizes up 

( _sweet flesh warm weight smells like dessert like sunshine like release_ )

and all he can focus on is the feel of Marie in his arms. They wrap around her of their own volition as she snuggles against his chest and tucks her head beneath his chin. His sudden erection is a live thing, screaming for her flesh. There’s no way she hasn’t noticed. The thought shames and excites him.

“Marie,” he chokes, then clears his throat. “Marie. _What the fuck are you doing?_ ”

She leans back slightly so she can see into his face and smiles. “This looked way more comfortable than that hard ol’ stool,” she breathes. She gazes at his bare chest, then runs one hand gently across his pecs. Logan’s breath snags in his lungs and refuses to come out. His senses are overcome by her warmth, her sweetness, the frantic beating of her heart that belies her calm words. He captures her hand to stop the slow torture of her touch but does not release it. Their eyes lock and they stare at each other for a long moment, breathing each other in. And then Logan closes his eyes and smashes his lips against hers.

( _dammit Logan_ )

( _you’re going to hell_ )

( _awww fuck it_ )

Despite all his denials, a part of him knew that this would happen someday. He hauls her against him with all of his strength and roughly thrusts his tongue into her mouth. She mewls and grasps his scruffy cheeks with both hands, pulling his face even closer. The round sweetness of her ass grinds against his raging cock and The Wolverine screams for flesh. Logan forces himself to loosen his grip - he must slow down, he must be gentle. There’s no stopping this train wreck - it’s too late for that. But he can do everything in his power to ensure that this first encounter - this _miracle_ \- is pleasurable for them both.

He knows she is innocent - his sense of smell tells the tale. When he finally returned from his travels and smelled the virginity still on her, The Wolverine howled with fierce glee. Bobby never stood a chance. She has always been his. She will always be his. Tonight he will lay his claim and no one else will ever touch her while he breathes.

His large, powerful hands gently grasp her shoulders, then run up and down her arms. He nuzzles the side of her neck, drinking in her scent. He can hear her heart racing, her rapid breathing. He can sense her nervousness. Smell her arousal. The Wolverine is screaming with lust, desperate to claw and plunge and claim. But Logan wrestles the beast back into its cage. He knows that he must exercise all the control he can possibly find to keep his deep, aching need in check. To keep his hands gentle and his touch slow. He knows that for her, it will hurt, but he plans to ensure that there is plenty of pleasure to go along with the pain. He smirks against her skin at the thought, and presses his lips to her shoulder. 

Soft, sweet, butterfly kisses along her shoulder and up her neck. Marie sighs and leans against him, her head against his shoulder, tipping back to give him greater access to the tender skin of her throat. One arm supports her back while the other hand gently strokes her waist, her ribcage, back to her waist, along the flat plane of her belly, ribs again - but not too high, not too fast, take it slow, build her up slowly until she’s bursting for him to claim her. Logan has always appreciated foreplay, and it has never served him better.

***

Rogue was sinking, drowning, _dying_ from the waves of pleasure that washed over her body. Logan’s lips were warm and soft against her neck, his naked torso blazing beneath her, strong hands everywhere and yet nowhere, nowhere near where she wanted them to be. Her body burned with desire and the need for him to touch her and never stop touching her, never again. She felt his body tremble with the effort of restraint and yet his touch was so, so unbelievably gentle...she had never guessed that her Logan - her Wolverine - would have such gentleness in him.   
Finally she could take it no more and her need for him overcame her shyness. She spun in his arms and, straddling his hips, pressed her lips once more to his. 

_Sparks. Fireworks. Raging infernos_. All the years of crushes, of unrequited love, of desperately wanting but never touching, not in any real way, flooded through Rogue as she kissed Logan. _Holy shit. HOLY SHIT. I’m kissing Logan!_ She couldn’t get close enough. She palmed the rough stubble of his cheeks, stroked his thick hair, ran her hands over all the parts of his muscular body she could reach. She was drunk on his lips, his breath, his skin. His hands cupped her ass, supporting her as she clung to him, and she took that as an invitation to grind herself against him.

Logan sucked in a ragged breath and pulled her even closer, digging those powerful fingers into the soft flesh of her hips, and she could feel the hard bulge of his arousal against her. The proof of his desire for her made Rogue feel giddy and brave. She gently bit his lower lip and felt more than heard his growl in response. She smiled and pulled back a little so that she could see his face. His expression was taut with desire, his eyes nearly black with lust and something else, something softer...something that, in a face less brutal, could almost be mistaken for…

_love._

As if sensing her thoughts, Logan buried his face against her, shielding himself from view. Rogue giggled but then gasped as he nuzzled her breasts, first one and then the other. Arching back, she closed her eyes as instinct took over. Logan’s mouth, hot and wet, closed over one hard nipple through the flimsy material of her top. A rush of wetness flowed through her and Logan growled against her breast, sucking as much of the soft flesh into his mouth as possible. Rogue’s breath came in little pants, and she ground her clit against the hot bulge of his erection. The sensations building there were almost too delicious to endure. 

With a harsh curse, Logan ripped his face away from her breast. “We gotta move this, baby,” he growled against her ear. “Someone could walk in.”

Rogue suddenly realized what a picture they must make - straddled across his hips, her breast in his mouth, his hand on her ass. _God, if Storm or the Professor had come in here_ …Rogue stifled a giggle and then squealed as Logan shot to his feet, bringing her with him. One steely arm ran under her bottom, supporting her weight, while the other pinned her against him as he claimed her mouth once more. Rogue wrapped both legs around his waist and buried her hands in his hair. She was vaguely aware of their motions as he carried her down the halls. The taste of his mouth and the prickle of his beard against her face was everything she’d ever hoped it would be, and so much more.

***

Logan is a ball of lust. He is still amazed that he was able to gain his senses enough to move this little party from the very public kitchen to somewhere a little more private. After all these months - years - of denial, there will be no stopping now. He wants to make damn sure they have plenty of time, with no risk of being disturbed. 

Logan is vaguely aware of a constant growling under his breath - almost a purr. The feeling of Marie’s legs around his waist, her tight ass against his arm, her sweet tongue in his mouth, almost make him lose his mind. He pulls her even closer, thrusting his tongue against hers in time with the rhythm of her hips against him. She bites his lip and the delicious shock of it causes The Wolverine to growl in delight. She’s so bold, his little mate. Thoughts of gentleness are nearly blown from his mind by the force of his lust...and his love. God, but he loves this kid, this woman, this strong gentle soul.

Logan wrestles his bedroom door open and kicks it closed. He crosses the room in three strides and lays Marie down on the bed, then gently covers her body with his own. He is careful to stay slightly to one side, to keep his great weight off her. She pulls back to stare into his face and he nearly looks away, afraid to show her the truth writ so clearly upon his gruff features. It’s one of the bravest things he’s ever done, to let his heart shine through his eyes for her to see. She smiles softly, stroking his cheeks, then burrows her face into his neck, cuddling close as she wraps her arms tightly around him. “I love you,” she whispers, and he can feel what it costs her to say it aloud. Logan swallows hard, and as his lips brush the shell of her ear he murmurs the words he never thought he’d hear himself say:

“I love you, Marie. I love you so goddamn much.”

***

_Wait, what??_

Rogue couldn’t believe her ears. Did Logan - The Wolverine, the most fearsome warrior the world had ever seen - just say what she thought he said? Did Logan _really_ just say he _loved_ her? She burrowed deeper into his neck and sighed, suddenly overcome with shyness. She felt the vibration of his low chuckle rumble through her. “Look at me. Baby...look at me.” 

Rogue peeked at his face. The tenderness and love there made her chest tight and her eyes sting. How many times had she imagined this moment? How many times had she lain awake at night hoping, _praying_ , that he would look at her like this someday? He gently stroked her face. “My Marie,” he whispered. Rogue’s heart leapt. He was the only one who called her Marie. The sound of her name in such a tender voice - like a prayer - threatened to undo her. Fiercely she tugged his head down and pressed her lips to his once more. 

The kiss quickly turned savage - a raw, primal dance of lips, teeth, and tongue. Logan growled continuously, low in his chest, rumbling deliciously against her body. He sat up just long enough to rip her flannel from her and fling it away, tugging her cami up over her head and tossing it aside. He lay back against her and the warm press of his muscular bare chest against her breasts was the most erotic thing she’d ever felt. She spread her legs and arched her hips against him, feeling his hot need right at the juncture of her thighs against the thin material of her boy shorts. Logan grunted and pulled her even closer with one strong hand cupping her ass, and ground the denim-covered bulge of his cock against her clit, over and over, faster and faster. Rogue cried out against his mouth and Logan swallowed her sounds of pleasure before capturing one bare nipple between his teeth. These new sensations combined with the incredible pressure of his cock against her most sensitive place was finally her undoing, and Rogue exploded into the first orgasm of her life.

***

Logan feels her come apart beneath him. The scent of her climax envelopes him in a wave and it’s all he can do to keep his composure. The sound of Marie moaning his name as she comes is the hottest thing he’s ever heard, and his control is hanging by a thread. The Wolverine is ravenous with lust, and it’s all Logan can do to keep the beast in check. 

With every ounce of his strength, Logan pulls back, releases his hold on her breast, softly kisses her mouth. One corner, then the other, then the middle. Corner again. Soft, gentle, _romantic_ kisses. Logan’s heart soars at the simple pleasure of these innocent kisses, and for a moment the roaring of the beast within him is forgotten. Marie sighs and returns his kisses in the same manner - soft and sweet, lower lip, upper, corner to corner. He strokes her body and gazes down at her. Her breasts are small but full, with the prettiest pink nipples he’s ever seen. 

Marie stares shyly into his eyes, her expression uncertain. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, then lowers his head and takes one perfect nipple, then the other into his mouth. Marie arches her back and whispers his name. 

In a flash all gentleness is forgotten and they clutch and writhe like wild things. Marie’s hands fumble at the snap of Logan’s jeans, pulling, tugging, struggling to free him. Logan snarls and, unsheathing his claws, rips the jeans right off of himself, not giving a single fuck that they’re his favorite pair. He yanks Marie’s boy shorts from her body in one swift move and plunges his tongue into her sweet depths.

Logan tries to keep the kiss gentle, but need has been denied too long. Burying his face in Marie’s tender folds, he drinks deeply of her essence. Her hands fist in his hair as she cries out with pleasure. Her nails scratch his scalp and he shudders. As she moans and writhes beneath him Logan has never been harder.

***

Logan’s mouth was a revelation. Rogue had heard some of the other girls talking about sex, and she’s seen a couple of naughty movies in the past. But nothing really prepared her for the sensations that Logan’s touch caused within her. She moaned and writhed and sighed, and was slightly shocked at her own wanton unselfconsciousness. 

Logan’s warm, wet tongue caressed the bud between her legs until she thought she might die from the wonder of it all. Rogue bit her lip to keep from screaming out Logan’s name and fisted her hands in his hair. Logan ran his tongue over the tender bud of her sex, one long finger gently dipping inside and stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves there. Logan’s tongue and hands were finally too much for her, and with a scream Rogue came again.

***

Marie’s skin is soft and salty with sweat, and her juices are the sweetest he’s ever tasted. The Wolverine howls with delight and ownership as another climax takes her. Logan keeps his mouth pressed against her clit as shudder after shudder wracks her body, leaving her spent. Logan returns to claim her mouth again, then gathers her close as she recovers. Despite his own arousal screaming for release, this quiet moment resonates in Logan’s fierce heart. Even The Wolverine is temporarily sated, filled with a kind of smug glee at pleasing his mate so well. He runs his hands over her bare skin, gently stroking, enjoying the softness and the warm weight of her pressed against his chest. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her tight to him, suddenly overcome with emotion. “I love you, I love you,” he murmurs over and over.

***

Rogue had no idea how long they snuggled like that, Logan gently rubbing her back and murmuring endearments she didn’t entirely hear but felt with the whole of her being. A deep happiness settled into her, and she tucked her head beneath his chin, wrapping her arm around his broad chest. Suddenly exhausted, she burrowed even closer and closed her eyes. Before she knew it, she was sound asleep.

***

“Marie.”

“Marie.”

“Hey...Marie!”

Logan gently shakes Marie’s shoulder. No response. He sits up a little, so he can see her face. A huff of surprised laughter escapes him. She’s asleep. _She’s fucking asleep._ After the hottest makeout session of his remembered lifetime and a declaration of love he never even planned to make, the little minx fell asleep on him. Literally.

Logan sighs, shifting his rock-hard cock uncomfortably. He knows he wore her out, emotionally as well as physically, and she needs her rest. He wonders if he should move her to her own room, then vetoes that idea almost immediately. Blue balls notwithstanding, there’s no way she’s sleeping anywhere but _his_ bed tonight.

He carefully eases out from under her, then tucks her in gently, admiring the way her two-tone hair spreads across his pillow. One speedy cold shower later, he crawls in beside her, suddenly exhausted. Pulling her close, he presses a kiss to her temple and falls into the first peaceful sleep he’s had since he can remember.

***

Something was tickling Rogue’s nose. Sleepily she brushed it away, then snuggled deeper into the covers. Warm, so warm and soft...the bed smelled like Logan, like heaven. Strong arms wrapped around her as something soft yet unyielding nudged her in the back. Lips against her ear, her neck. Logan’s voice murmuring her name. Rogue’s eyes shot open. Clutching the sheet to her chest, she rolled over and found herself staring into the most beautiful hazel eyes in the world. Logan. _Omigod I’m in Logan’s bed. OH MY GOD I’M NAKED IN LOGAN’S BED!!_ Rogue fought the temptation to dive beneath the covers and hide. Logan’s sleepy smile and rusty chuckle were like Christmas morning. “Hey, kid,” he murmured, before bending his head and gently kissing her lips. Memories from the night before came flooding back and Rogue thought she might die from happiness. She was in Logan’s bed. She was kissing him. And last night he said he loved her. 

Logan’s hands burned a trail down her naked body as his lips teased her neck. Rogue felt her nipples tighten as a wave of heat flooded the juncture of her thighs. She moaned and clutched at his shoulders, desperate to be closer to him. He wrapped her tightly in his arms and rolled, bringing her with him so that she sat astride him. The look of mingled lust and affection on his face made her burn even hotter. The heat of his body against her naked pussy, the raging fire of his bare cock against her butt and thigh made her feel like she would burst from need. She ran her hands across his chest, then bent her head to tentatively lick one taut, hard nipple. Logan gasped and his cock jumped against her. Rogue smiled against his skin and proceeded to explore every inch of his exposed torso. Logan’s hands were everywhere - her back, her arms, her legs, her ass. He rammed a hand between them and stroked the wetness between her legs. Deftly he slid one long digit inside her, stroking her clit with his thumb. She ground herself mercilessly against his hand and muffled her scream of ecstasy with his chest as she came. 

***

Logan moans as Marie comes and rubs his cock against her ass, desperate to feel her. His need is a live thing and will no longer be denied. He flips her so she is on her back and pins her to the bed with his hips. He caresses her pussy with his fingers, feeling the ready wetness there. Grasping his cock, he nudges the blunt head against her opening and moans at the sweet heat. He stares into her beautiful eyes, asking the silent question. Marie swallows hard, and nods. _God forgive me_ is Logan’s last coherent thought as he buries himself inside her with one smooth stroke and The Wolverine roars its conquest.

Logan feels her tremble, smells the blood, senses her pain. Though it cannot be helped, it saddens him. He strokes her face, kisses her deeply until he feels her relax. He moves, just a hair, a fraction of an inch, and Marie gasps. Instantly Logan freezes. But he is astonished when Marie grabs his hips and pulls him tighter against her. “Please,” she whispers. “Don’t stop.” Logan crushes her against him and begins to rock.

Harder, deeper, faster, he drives his cock into her tight, wet pussy, reveling in the way she throbs around him. The scent of her engulfs him, drives him mad. He is Logan no longer - he is The Wolverine, pure instinct and animal lust, her pleasure forgotten, his only goal the satiation of his own aching need for release. The sound of his body slapping against her and her frantic cries of arousal tip him over the edge and he crests the wave, swelling within her as her inner muscles tighten and pulse around him, sucking the cum from him with the strength of her climax. He roars and sinks his teeth into her shoulder as the most powerful orgasm of his long, long life rips through him. At the last possible second, gaining his senses just in time, he slams both fists against the mattress as his claws extend to the hilt and he pours himself inside her. The combination of pain and staggering sexual release overwhelms him, and Logan collapses on top of her, utterly drained and spent.

***

_Holy fucking shit_ was all Rogue could think as her heart gradually slowed and her breathing returned to normal. Logan’s sweat mixed with her own and cooled on her body as the last few dregs of his seed pumped into her. She thrilled at the hot, sticky weight of his body, the smell of his wetness and hers, the deep ache within her loins. It had hurt - it had hurt a lot - but it was totally and completely worth it. Rogue had never dreamed that such pure ecstasy even existed. _No wonder everyone's obsessed with sex,_ she marveled, stifling a giggle and burying her face in Logan’s hot, sweaty neck. A huge sigh escaped her and she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. 

“Am I crushin’ you?” Logan’s deep voice rumbled as he rolled to the side, pulling her against his chest. Rogue shook her head and laughed softly. “Nope, I’m perfectly perfect,” she murmured, staring into his beautiful amber eyes. The happy light shining from within him nearly hurt her with its intensity. Kissing him lightly on the mouth, she nuzzled his chest and closed her eyes, basking in his warmth and his love. “Feel free to wake me up like that anytime.”


End file.
